Nodding, Chalford left the room, but he was gone for only a few moments. When he returned, he rejoined Norfolk, Adriana, and Miranda near the fireplace. “Someone will report soon,” he told his wife in an undertone, “but I daresay Aunt Adelaide is in the right of it and there is no cause for anxiety.”
“The ships are very far away,” she admitted, looking at Miranda, who had been flirting outrageously with Mr. Bennett.
Miranda grinned. “Goodness, Dree, did you think the French would invade us? Even Orson admits such fears to be idiotish.”
“Miranda,” said Alston, choosing that moment to step up behind her, “I should like to have a private word with you. At once if you please.” His manner was not conciliating.
Miranda flushed and looked to her sister for help.
“Really, sir,” Adriana said lightly, “I cannot think what can be of such importance that you must needs speak to her now.”
“Miranda,” said Alston with haughty emphasis, “is still under my authority, Adriana. Come with me, my girl.”
When Adriana made a slight move as though to interfere, Joshua put a restraining hand upon her arm, causing her to turn toward him in protest. Regarding her with steady, slightly narrowed eyes, he shook his head.
She bit her lip and remained still. Glancing then toward her brother and sister, expecting Alston to mock her silence, she discovered that they had turned away and were approaching the door to the entry hall. Before they reached it, however, the second footman entered rather more quickly than was his custom.
His eyes were bright as he sought his master among the company. “M’lord,” he said, striving unsuccessfully for dignified undertone as he reached the small group by the western hearth, “they are indeed French ships. Miskin saw them through your glass. Nearer the French coast than ours, m’lord, but he says there be English brigs there too, and it looks like they be engaging the enemy. There be shots bein’ fired, Miskin says.”
6
CHALFORD PROMPTLY ORDERED LOOKOUTS to the castle ramparts, but as the day proceeded, their reports continued to indicate that the ships showed no inclination to approach England, that they had moved nearer to the French coast instead. By late afternoon the French ships had disappeared from sight altogether, and three English ships had been sighted making slowly for Southampton. Not until that evening, when more guests arrived for dinner, was further information received.
Chalford had suggested that morning that they inform those of their neighbors who might expect to be presented to the new marchioness that she was ready to receive them, and Lady Adelaide had declared that certain persons among them might actually be invited to dine with their other guests that evening.
“’Tis short notice, of course, but they will be very glad to come, and we will thus attend to several obligations at once,” she told him. “We will set back the dinner hour, which will suit our town visitors and likewise make it unnecessary for anyone to be put to unseemly haste.” Glancing at Adriana, who had turned from a chat with Sally to listen to them, she added, “Not many of them will provide suitable companionship for you, I fear, but ’tis our duty to condescend graciously whenever possible. We must never appear to snub the local gentry.”
“My goodness me, no,” said Sally, whose interest had been as marked as Adriana’s. “’Twould be fatal to snub one’s inferiors, particularly since country squires tend, in my experience, to be such very proud persons.”
Adriana had no wish to snub anyone, so Lady Adelaide’s suggestion was agreed to, with the result that several members of the local gentry—all of those with whom Lady Adelaide could bring herself to associate—joined the houseparty for dinner that evening. Among the first to arrive, after the houseguests and family had changed and gathered once more in the great hall, were Lord Braverstoke and his son, Randall, of Newingham Manor.
Randall Braverstoke caught Adriana’s interest at once—and her sister’s as a matter of course—for he was a charming, well-set-up young man of some thirty-plus summers, with deep-blue eyes and shining black hair. When he bowed deeply over Adriana’s hand, he kept his eyes on her face, his gaze exploring hers while he murmured the usual amenities. And when Adriana smiled at him, his eyes lit with undisguised pleasure and admiration.
“Why do we never meet men like Mr. Braverstoke in London?” Miranda demanded when she and Adriana had moved on to greet other visitors and were beyond earshot of the Braverstokes.
“I like his father, too,” Adriana said with a grin. “With those round, red cheeks and that ring of gray hair resting like a halo upon his head, he looks like a plump cherub.” When Miranda smiled but faintly in response to this sally, Adriana looked searchingly at her. “I have not had an opportunity to ask before now, Randy, but what did Alston want with you earlier?”
Miranda grimaced. “The usual drivel. He saw me with Mr. Bennett and then heard what I said to you. Said I was insolent.”
“Oh, dear.”
“It was nothing,” Miranda assured her, “but I am tired of his lectures, Dree. Have you spoken to Chalford yet?”
“No, and truly, you cannot wish to come to us, Randy. There is nothing for you to do here. ’Tis nothing like Brighton.”
“Believe me, Dree, I would willingly trade a fortnight of Alston and Sophie’s company in London or Brighton for a fortnight of boredom at Thunderhill. Do, please, speak to Chalford.”
Adriana nodded, thinking she had best make a push to apologize to her husband for her bad behavior the previous night before she asked favors of him. She felt no urge to explain this detail to Miranda, however, and they were interrupted just then by Sarah Clifford and Sally, the latter demanding to know if the Earl and Countess Cowper were expected to join the houseparty.
“I meant to ask you the moment we arrived,” she said with a laugh, “for you must know that I have the most delightful little surprise for them. Only look at this.” She began to hold out a small, neatly matted and gilt-framed newspaper clipping, then changed her mind and read it to them instead: “‘From among the fashionable dainties of the season, a young earl, it is said, has given a decided preference to young Lamb.’ There,” she said with a chuckle, “is that not famous? Will it not amuse them?”
“Why would it do so?” Miranda asked.
Sarah, too, expressed puzzlement. “That item was in nearly every newspaper a month ago, Sally. Cowper and Emily Lamb are married now. Are they to visit you, Dree?”
Adriana shook her head. “I believe they intend to spend some weeks at Panshanger, his lordship’s house near Hertford. You will have to send your gift to them there, Sally, for I daresay that they, too, will miss Brighton this year.”
Sally laughed. “To be sure, dearest Emily is now a proper, dutiful countess, which is all the more reason, I think, to remind her that her affairs must always provide fare for gossip. And this bit came not from just any paper, my dear Miranda, but from the Times, which so rarely indulges in gossipy on-dits. I clipped the notice at once, thinking to make them a wedding gift of it, but through some cause or other I mislaid the thing and only found it again when we returned to the Prospect Lodge.”
“Poor Emily has been providing on-dits for all the papers since before her come-out,” Adriana pointed out, “but it will be different now, I believe. I have seen her with Cowper. She loves the man to distraction, Sally, and he is so very charming to her. ’Tis like a storybook romance,” she said wistfully.
“For the moment, perhaps,” Sally said with a grimace, “but Emily is far from being the naive heroine in which story writers delight. She is as worldly as her mama, and no one ever accused Lady Melbourne of being distracted from the main chance by love, though she certainly enjoyed more opportunities than most for distraction. Only wait until Emily becomes bored with Cowper, or he with her. A charming man when he wishes to be, and even more handsome than Leveson-Gower, but Cowper can be as cold and hard as steel, too, and for very little cause.” She shivered dramatically, adding, “Goodness knows I wish th
em well, but marriage … Well, my dears, marriage can be very difficult.”
Adriana stared at her. Was this the foolish, chattering schoolgirl Chalford had described to her only the previous night? Marriage could, as she was discovering for herself, prove very difficult indeed; however, she could not imagine eighteen-year-old Emily with her large, wide-set brown eyes and pale, innocent face as anything but an adoring young wife. She opened her mouth to say as much, to tell Sally she was being foolish beyond permission to speak so, but the words would not come. A small voice deep inside her suggested Sally might well prove to be right.
“My dears,” said Lady Henrietta just then, approaching them with her rapid, clicking steps, her head thrust a little forward as though to carry her more quickly to their sides, “did you hear what Mr. Braverstoke has been saying about those French ships?”
“No, ma’am,” Adriana said. “I thought the danger was over.”
“Do tell us,” urged Sarah; the others nodded encouragingly.
“You had much better hear it from him, for I should most likely make a mull of the tale,” said Lady Hetta, signaling to the young man in question to join them. “Tell these ladies what you were telling the others, sir,” she said when he came obediently to her side. “He had his yacht out on the water today, you see,” she added with a brisk nod.
“Oh, do you have a yacht?” Adriana asked, smiling at him. “What fun that must be. I have always loved the sea, but no one has ever taken me out in anything other than a small sailboat before. I should adore to sail on a yacht.”
“Then we must arrange an expedition, ma’am,” Mr. Braverstoke said, smiling at her and showing even, strong-looking white teeth. He was of a height nearly equal to Chalford’s, but his body was slimmer and his shoulders not so broad. Nonetheless, Adriana thought, letting her gaze drift idly over his form, he seemed well-muscled and fit. She looked up, encountered Sally’s look of mockery, and blushed. Fortunately, Mr. Braverstoke’s attention had been reclaimed by Lady Hetta, who suggested that he tell about the French ships and never mind puffing off his yacht.
“Chalford has a yacht,” she added. “I daresay everyone in south Kent has a yacht.”
“To be sure, ma’am,” he said, exchanging an amused glance with Adriana, “but I am persuaded that the Golden Fleece is a superior bit of craftsmanship, and I should be proud to show her off. You must let me show you her paces one day, Lady Chalford.”
“Tell about the French ships, for goodness’ sake!” Lady Hetta said so sharply that Adriana would not have been surprised had she stamped her little foot to underscore the command.
“Please, sir, do tell us,” she said.
“My pleasure.” He smiled at her, then glancing at the others, added quickly, “We had drawn rather nearer the French coast than usual, you see, for it was a fine day for sailing—”
“Indeed, sir?” interrupted Sarah, her eyebrows lifted in surprise. “I thought the day a dismal one, myself. It looked every minute as though it meant to come on to mizzle.”
“Oh, no, not after two o’clock or so,” he said, shaking his head. “Indeed, ma’am, we saw the sun several times, and the wind was ideal for sailing. In point of fact, it was so good that we nearly sailed into the battle before we realized where we were.”
“So you see,” said Lady Hetta triumphantly, “there was a battle, an actual engagement and not a mere exercise.”
“Oh, yes,” Braverstoke said, “it was a bit of truly smart action—three of our ships against a number of the enemy’s large brigs and luggers.”
“Good gracious,” Adriana said, staring.
Sally’s mouth was open, and others were drawing near to hear it again. Lord Braverstoke said eagerly, “’Twas damned nearly the whole French navy at the first of it. Tell them, Randall.”
“Indeed, sir. After watching the French flotilla for six weeks, our people learned it had been joined by reinforcements, and three of our ships went to have a look. Forewarning aside, it must have astounded them this morning to encounter dashed well the whole French fleet just south of Cape Gris-Nez—thirty-four of them, we were told, with eleven brigs, steering south toward Boulogne under the cover of artillery batteries from shore.”
“I’ll wager they felt safe enough,” observed his father. “Our flagship, you say, had but two brigs to assist it.”
“Nevertheless,” declared Lady Adelaide from her sofa, “I daresay that three English ships is a sufficient force to rout any number of French vessels.”
“As you say, ma’am, particularly since they engaged only the ships at the tail end of the flotilla.” Again, Randall Braverstoke exchanged an amused glance with Adriana.
“But we won the battle,” declared Lady Hetta happily.
“Well, ma’am, we wounded a good many on board the French ships, to be sure, and our grape-and-musket shot carried to the beach as well, but I fear that without having captured a single ship, which we did not, one cannot truly claim victory.”
Chalford said, “’Tis a problem the English navy has faced throughout history, I believe, that the French coast is always so strongly fortified. Every few miles they have a port their ships can put into when disabled.”
Norfolk agreed, then added with a smile, “Though of late we seldom succeed in capturing anything, these skirmishes have a good effect by showing the damned French what they may expect if ever they do make a grand dash at us across the Channel.”
Lady Adelaide nodded her approval of these words. “To be sure,” she said, “England must always prevail in the end.”
“I’ll not debate that,” Braverstoke said, “but our ships took a hammering today from the French shore batteries. My crew and I could do nothing to aid in the battle, of course, but we lingered close, thinking they might be glad of our aid afterward. They were much mauled, the flagship taking on a foot of water an hour, so although English skill may have caused some grief, you will perceive that the monsieurs had their share of the fun.”
Since Lady Adelaide appeared to enjoy no such perception, it was as well that Benstead appeared upon the threshold just then to announce in his most stately manner that dinner was served.
Norfolk, as the ranking gentleman present, offered his arm to Adriana, saying in a confiding tone as he did so, “Did I ever tell you that Prinny and I are responsible for introducing the civilized habit of dining at this later hour?”
She grinned at him, her eyes twinkling. “No, sir, I don’t believe you’ve ever mentioned that fact to me, but I can assure you that I have heard the tale more than once in my life. My father has been known to describe your dinners with his royal highness as Greek symposiums, with Bacchus as the central god. You will thus approve of Chalford’s dining room. The decor provides a veritable temple to Bacchus.”
Norfolk chuckled in appreciation, patting the slim hand resting upon his forearm as he did so. “Chalford showed great good sense in falling tail over top for you, my dear. You will make an excellent marchioness. Every man should be so blessed.”
“Thank you, sir.” She could scarcely reply in kind—the present Duchess of Norfolk having gone mad shortly after her marriage to the duke, and it being quite ineligible to mention even one of his many mistresses—so Adriana deftly turned the conversation to his restoration activities.
This topic proved a successful one, since his grace, seated at her right, was perfectly willing to discourse throughout dinner upon his activities. She divided her attention, as was perfectly proper, between this conversation and an enjoyable flirtation with Lord Clifford on her left.
The company was merry, the service excellent, and the hum of conversation droned for an hour before there came one of those odd silences that fall upon every group from time to time, no matter how large or noisy. At that moment, Chalford was informing his butler that several of the guests had expressed a desire to visit the owls after the meal. “’Twas plaguily dim in the keep last evening,” he said, “so ask the lads to take up some lanterns, but try not to di
sturb the inhabitants too much. We don’t want them all taking flight, after all.”
Benstead replied clearly, with his customary dignity, “Very good, my lord. Your guests may be interested to learn, in point of fact, that the Prince of Wales has laid an egg.”
There was a moment’s stunned silence, followed by a crack of laughter from Norfolk. “And not for the first time, either,” he chortled. There was more laughter then, and the merriment grew as guests who understood explained the matter to their neighbors.
Lady Henrietta waited until the noise had abated somewhat before saying brightly, albeit to no one in particular, “That owl must more properly be renamed for the princess now, I suppose.”
That brought more laughter and several comments regarding the Princess of Wales’s reputation that were less than flattering. Adriana, seeing Sally frown, hoped her friend’s customarily strong sense of propriety would forbid her taking up the cudgels on behalf of the Prince of Wales’s beleaguered wife as she had been known to do on other, less formal occasions, but Sally remained silent. It was Sophie’s voice that could be heard as the laughter died away.
“’Tis a shocking thing,” she said indignantly to the gentleman beside her in a tone loud enough to have been heard above the laughter, “to hear persons of quality making mock of the royal family in such a vulgar fashion.”
Another brief silence followed this pronouncement before Lady Adelaide graciously requested her dinner partner to tell her, if he would, a little more about his house in Somerset. The general conversation at once began to hum again, and Sophie, cast into high color, applied her attention to her dinner.
At last it was over. Leaving the gentlemen to enjoy their port, the ladies retired to the great hall, where the conversation became general, ambling from topic to topic until the men joined them there. Lady Adelaide then took matters in hand, suggesting to Chalford that he take those who wished to see the owls straight out to the keep. When they had gone, she urged several young ladies among the remaining guests to display their talent on the pianoforte, and when the others returned, Adriana, Sarah, and Miranda helped her organize tables for games.
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